


Hawke's Dates

by Ilsasya24



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilsasya24/pseuds/Ilsasya24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not as if she didn't try, but there is a reason Hawke doesn't date. Actually, there are seven of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hawke's Dates

It had begun on a slow day down in Kirkwall’s docks. It was already afternoon and there had only been one group to attack them. It was a very slow day. But, this slow day would be the beginning of a world of trouble for Hawke and all her companions. Because this was the day she met _him_.

The man himself was very unremarkable. His name was William or Fredrick or something. He was handsome, yes, but in a conventional way—no brooding or tortured good looks. A Kirkwall native, he came from a loving family and had a long history devoid of murder, slavery, demons or even magic in general. Clearly he was not Hawke’s type.

Though, clearly _she_ didn’t know that.

Hawke was not shy and did not beat around the bush. With a determined step she walked straight up to the man. Her companions followed her, all reaching for their weapons in expectation of the bloodshed that was sure to follow. Hawke turned around and shooed them away.

“What is she doing?” Merrill asked as they watched Hawke’s interactions closely, wary of any signs of danger.

“It certainly is odd,” Fenris agreed.

“If she wanted to intimidate the guy I could see her shooing Daisy away but Broody over here just screams intimidation,” Varric remarked.

“You pointedly leave yourself off,” Fenris observed. Varric smirked at him.

“I’m just a merchant dwarf, nothing scary,” he commented. Fenris cocked an eyebrow at him.

“It’s Bianca,” Varric continued. “She’s the scary one.”

“Doesn’t look like she’s intimidating him, though,” Merrill stated, drawing their attention back to Hawke who appeared to be… blushing?!

“Hey Elf, go brood over there,” Varric commanded. Fenris scowled at him.

“And why would I do that?” he demanded.

“The mood over there is getting bad and we need to do something before…” Varric was interrupted by a loud giggle. The three of them were shocked to see that the giggle was coming from Hawke. She had never made that sound in all the years they’d known her.

“Well, shit,” said Varric.

~*~

That evening—at the Hanged Man—Varric, Fenris and Merrill filled in the others on the disaster that had happened during their jaunt at the docks. After some discussion—and several hands of cards—it was decided that they would remain alert but hope that this was simply a onetime mishap. They had just come to this agreement when they heard that noise again. That loud, unnatural giggle. Immediately they turned to the door.

Hawke was talking with that sailor again. (What _was_ his name? Simon? George? Something common, that’s for sure.) Varric was fairly certain that Hawke saw her companions but chose not to sit with them. Something must be done!

“It’s the sailor guy again,” Merrill mentioned. Isabella perked up.

“You never said he was a sailor,” she said to Varric.

“We were at the docks, what were you expecting?” Fenris remarked dryly.

“Well, well Rivaini, is that an idea I see? A devious one, I hope,” said Varric. Isabella’s answering smile was very smug.

“I’ve handled sailors before,” Isabella said simply.

“Many I would think,” Anders remarked. Isabella smiled, finished her drink and strutted her way to the bar.

“What do you think?” Sebastian asked Aveline looking toward the sailor who was chatting with Hawke.

“I think...” Aveline shook her head. “He hasn’t got a chance.”

Isabella, fully equipped with a new bottle of whiskey, navigated her way through the crowded bar to Hawke’s table.

“Oh, Hawke. Fancy meeting you here,” she said as she approached. Hawke’s smile fell away as soon as she spoke.

“Isabella,” she remarked shortly. Isabella walked around the table and lightly trailed her fingers across the man’s back.

“Mind if I join you,” she asked sensually, more to the man than Hawke. Hawke grimaced.

“Yes,” Hawke growled.

“N… no! No… not at all,” the sailor stuttered. Isabella flashed a look of triumph at Hawke’s increasing glare. Isabella sat next to Hawke. Well, really she sat almost on top of Hawke. She slid her hand around Hawke’s waist, making sure the action was noticed by their companion. Her other hand moved to rest on Hawke’s thigh.

The man’s eyes widened and he grew more uncomfortable as he watched the two women. Before this had felt like a companionable outing where both of them were having fun. But, when Isabella appeared, the man suddenly found himself contemplating the phrase ‘two’s company’. Though this had been his date to start with, the sailor found himself becoming the third wheel. Stammering apologies and excuses, the man got up and dashed from the bar.

Hawke turned to glare at Isabella. She smirked back. Hawke sighed because she never could get truly angry at any of her friends. She would have to work on that.

“You’re buying the drinks,” Hawke told Isabella as she allowed herself to be dragged to the card table.

~*~

Hawke never saw the sailor again and eventually he would sail off. But he wasn’t as important as what he caused. That sailor had made Hawke realize that she lacked any kind of romance in her life. And he made her want it.

Thus she found herself in front of a mirror in her room in her estate one afternoon, dressed in her best finery. Satisfied with her look, Hawke made her way downstairs. On her way she heard her dog barking happily. She must have a visitor.

“Damn, not again,” Anders said, sitting on the floor in the middle of her entryway. “You’re just a dog! Why do you keep winning?” The mabari growled at him.

“Look,” Anders said, pulling out a haunch of mutton. “Here’s your winnings. I told you I was good for it!” The dog sniffed the offering twice and looked up at Anders expectantly.

“Prices are going up,” Anders defended himself. “Ask Varric if you don’t believe me. But your fifty silver is all there.” The dog looked at him suspiciously once more before beginning to tear into its meat. Anders sighed with relief and looked over to the stairwell where he noticed Hawke for the first time.

“You should keep him away from Varric’s influence,” Anders told her, motioning back to the dog. Hawke rolled her eyes at him. “I’m serious,” Anders insisted. “I think he’s teaching your dog to cheat. And who teaches a dog Wicked Grace anyway?”

“You lost at cards… to my dog?” Hawke asked him with incredulity. “I knew you were bad at cards Anders but this…?” She shook her head at him.

“Are you going out?” he asked her, examining her appearance. “I should probably go along. If I stay around he’ll convince me to play another hand.”

“Anders…” she began but he cut her off.

“Merrill was talking about going out with you. You’re a bit dressed up for the alienage though.”

“Anders…” she was shaking her head.

“Oh, Fenris’s place then? I’ll walk you there. Won’t stay, though. I know where I’m not wanted.”

“Anders…”

“The Hanged Man is it? Not much improvement but I’d rather lose to Isabella and Varric than to your dog.”

“ _Anders…_ ”

“No? Going to the keep. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Aveline. Still need to thank her for getting the guard to back off my clinic.”

_“Anders…”_

“The chantry? Hawke, I didn’t really see you as the type. Still Sebastian is alright…”

“Anders!” Hawke yelled at him. He shut up at last. Hawke took a long deep breath to try to calm herself before she spoke.

“I am going out,” she began. “Not with you or Merrill or Sebastian or the rest. I have a date.” Anders frowned for the first time.

“A date? With?” Hawke sighed again.

“Keran.”

“The Templar?” Anders’ voice was riddled with disgust. Hawke rolled her eyes, already expecting this kind of reaction.

“Yes, Anders.” She made to move past him. Her arm was caught and she turned around to face a blue, glowing Anders.

“Hey, Anders,” she said, “you’re glowing. Are you supposed to be glowing?”

“I am Justice,” he said in a voice deeper than Anders’.  Hawke nervously eyed the glowing hand on her arm. In her experience when people started glowing it was usually a bad thing.

“Look, calm down Anders.” She tried to look him in the eye but it was hard to tell where his blue and glowing eyes were looking. He was still Justice.

“Alright,” she conceded. “Why don’t you just calm down and we can go on a nice and demon-free visit to Merrill’s house.” Slowly the blue faded away from Anders. “Good.”

“I’ll go change,” she told him. On her way upstairs she swiped the playing cards from the floor.

“Hey,” Anders called to her in irritation. Her dog whined.

“Removing temptation,” she called down to them. Anders waited until she was completely gone to pull out another deck from within his cloak. The hand became blue and began to glow again. The mabari walked over to sniff it.

“What do you think,” Anders asked him.  “Looks real, doesn’t it.”

~*~

Hawke had always thought the Dalish to be a funny people. And not amusing funny. Just the thought of living in the woods put her off. What would she do without cutthroats and bandits to fight? And a soft bed. She had gotten very attached to her feather pillows.

Still though, she couldn’t deny that some of the Dalish were quite attractive. Leaving her companions behind with the Keeper, Hawke wandered around until she found a handsome elf. With him firmly locked into her sights, she set off.

“Hello,” she said.

“Andaran atish’an, shemlan,” he replied.

“Sorry, I don’t speak… elf.”

“Elvish,” he said.

“Huh?”

“The language is called Elvish.”

“Oh, right. Didn’t mean to offend you. I just thought I’d come over because you were so handsome…” Hawke trailed off. The elf’s eyebrows rose. He wasn’t use to being hit on by a human then.

“I see. You do not offend,” he said. Hawke smiled at him.

“Oh, Cammen,” Merrill said appearing out of nowhere. “Aneth ara. How is your wife? And your kids? Lilianni and…. Oh what was the other’s name? Um… Deygan? No that wasn’t it. Oh dear, I’m babbling again, aren’t I.” As soon as Hawke heard Merrill ask about Cammen’s wife, she had sighed and walked away. She was now standing with Isabella, who had slung an arm around her waist, and Aveline, who looked imposing even to the elves.

“I’m not married,” Cammen said confusedly. She smiled at him.

“I know,” she said sweetly as she walked away.

~*~

Hawke was in the Hanged Man again. Really, she probably spent far too much time there—but so did half of Kirkwall. Currently Hawke was happily trading light-hearted banter with another patron. She’d been doing this for about half an hour after he accidentally spilled his drink on her. Perhaps not the most romantic of starts but at least it was a start. Hawke was surprised at how difficult it actually was to get a date. She fancied herself attractive and she was wealthy. It shouldn’t be that hard.

“I don’t believe you’ve told me your name yet,” Hawke remarked after a half hour.

“You never told me yours,” he replied.

“So there are people in town who _don’t_ know me? That’s surprising,” Hawke said, more to herself than him. “I’m Marian Hawke.” Suddenly the man’s eyes widened considerably.

“ _You_ are Hawke?” he questioned her, aghast. She nodded hesitantly, confused at his reaction. Where they had been friendly and even flirtatious before, the mood had quickly become awkward.

“Is that a problem?” she asked him cautiously, years of assassination attempts making her wary.

“It’s just… did you really rip the arms off an ogre? What about single-handedly killing a high dragon with only a slingshot? Can you really control darkspawn with your mind?” The man quickly bounced from awkward into excited as he regurgitated the tales spun by Varric. Hawke just flopped her head into her hands and sighed.

“Also,” her companion said, this time more hesitantly. “Is it true that you are nicknamed the ‘Black Widow’ because you kill every man you…” he trailed off but Hawke easily understood where he was going. Filled with a blinding fury Hawke stood.

“Varric!” she screamed.

~*~

Hawke decided that the Hanged Man was not the place to try to pick up a date. It became quickly clear that Varric’s new tale had spread throughout them all. Unfortunately the dwarf had made himself scarce and managed to avoid being throttled by Hawke. It was probably her fault for screaming at him and giving him time to escape.

She had gone to Darktown, which—though not really her first choice—was surprisingly pleasant. Well, no. Not even the residents could say that Darktown was pleasant. The pleasant part was solely due to the man she was walking with.

He was a Ferelden refugee from Redcliffe originally. Hawke was surprised at how much they had in common. She may be nobility living in the lavish luxury of a Hightown estate while he was one of the countless refugees wallowing in Darktown but, once they pushed past all of that, they were both still Ferelden.

“You should come over sometime to meet my dog,” Hawke told him. To most people in Kirkwall that would have been a bizarre statement (Isabella would have turned it into some kind of euphemism) but the two fellow Fereldens were like-minded.

“Just your dog?” he asked her. She smiled at him.

“We’ll see how things go,” she replied. He had just opened his mouth to reply when they were interrupted.

“Hawke,” Sebastian called out to her. She barely held back a groan.

“Sebastian,” she said, trying—and failing—to smile. “What are you doing _here_?” Her barely concealed hostility did not seem to faze him.

“I’m on my way to see Anders; to make another appeal to him about the Maker.” At this point the Ferelden man scoffed. Hawke turned to look at him, missing the slightly devious smirk on Sebastian’s face.

“Maker this, Maker that. Awful lot of hogwash if you ask me,” the Ferelden murmured. Hawke sighed. She knew with certainty that Sebastian wouldn’t let such a comment go.

“Are you not Andrastian?” Sebastian asked. The Ferelden shook his head.

“Why should I be?” the Ferelden demanded of him. “My home destroyed and my wife killed by darkspawn and four years later I’m still stuck livin’ in the damn dark and beggin’ coins. What has the Maker ever done for me?” The Ferelden spat on the ground by Sebastian’s feet. Hawke could feel herself growing disgusted. Before his manners had not bothered her but, in the presence of Sebastian’s princely manners, now she found the embarrassing.

“The Maker is all around us. His influence is everywhere,” Sebastian told him levelly. The Ferelden began arguing louder giving Hawke something of a headache. Without taking her leave of either, she just walked away.

~*~

Clearly it was no longer safe to make any attempts in the open. Every single one of Hawke’s date attempts had ended in disaster. At this point she wasn’t even bothering to look for true love. It would be enough just to get someone to spend the night with. The sooner this happened, the better. With Varric’s increasingly outlandish lies, who would believe that she was still a virgin?

Hawke made up her mind. She waited until one of the rare times when she was alone and found herself making her way to the red light district. Outside the door her resolve failed her. When she wasn’t here on business it was suddenly so much harder to convince herself to walk through those doors. Ten minutes later she was still there.

“Looking for a companion tonight,” asked a voice to her left. Hawke turned to see a woman dressed in revealing clothing. The woman was not beautiful but hardly plain either. Hawke looked from her to the door and back again.

“How much?”

“One sovereign.”

Without any kind of barrier standing in her way, Hawke found her courage.

“Deal.”

They walked the short distance back to Hawke’s estate in silence. The woman twisted herself around Hawke’s arm with reckless abandon. Hawke could only keep her eyes peeled and hope that they would meet none of her friends.

They didn’t.

Once inside, Hawke took the prostitute by the hand and led her to the stairs. That was as far as they made it. The mabari came charging out of the study barking and growling up a frenzy. This wasn’t his usual greeting barks. No, the war hound was flat out snarling. The prostitute tore her hand from Hawke’s and fled. She was chased all the way out the door. The mabari stood at the doorstep and let out a contented huff.

“What were you doing?” Hawke demanded of her dog, dragging him back into the main room. “Why would you do something like that?” The dog laid its head on its paws and stared up at her with puppy eyes.

“Don’t you dare try that on me,” Hawke yelled at him. “I know you understand me.” As she continued her tirade Fenris walked through the still open door.

“Hawke? The door was open…” Fenris stopped as he stepped through the doorway when he saw the ferocious mabari cowering before its livid owner. When it heard Fenris’s voice it perked up its ears.

“What happened?” Fenris asked. Hawke notice him for the first time.

“Do something about this dog, will you,” she begged him. “He just attacked someone I brought over. Maker do I have a headache!” Hawke wandered back up the stairs and, a little while later, the warrior and the dog heard her door slam shut. Fenris moved to stand in front of the dog who was still cowering. Slowly he knelt down and patted the dog’s head.

“Good boy.”

~*~

Aveline found herself outside the Blooming Rose. She shuffled about self-consciously. Brothels had never appealed to her in the slightest; actually they made her a bit sick. As Hawke had done earlier, Aveline procrastinated opening the door for as long as she could.

“Looking for a companion…” the woman recently chased out of Hawke’s estate approached Aveline but backed off quickly once she recognized the guard-captain. Watching her run off, Aveline sighed and finally opened the door.

Aveline was almost as well-known as Hawke. This became even more evident when she was in places like this. With Hawke it seemed her effect was diminished but, entering the brothel alone, she was enough to make the entire place as silent as a churchyard.

Wanting to get out of this place as quickly as possible, Aveline made for Madam Lusine. The lady clearly recognized Aveline but was the least affected out of the group. She had served many guardsmen and even guard-captains. It had not occurred to her that this would be different.

“How can I help you?” Madam Lusine asked. Slowly the patrons went back to their frivolities.

“I don’t want to spend much time here, so I’ll make this quick,” Aveline said forcefully. “You know Hawke—Ferelden refugee who made a name for herself in the deep roads? You are not to sell to her.” Madam Lusine was confused.

“Who are you to stop me from…” she tried to say but Aveline cut her off.

“The guard lets this place be because getting rid of it would be more hassle than I’d like to deal with. If something were to happen to make that no longer true…” Madam Lusine nodded violently and accepted Aveline’s terms.

Hawke would—weeks later—end up in the brothel for work. Her work completed she made a snap decision to buy the services. She could easily afford two sovereigns. When Madam Lusine denied her, Hawke stormed out of the establishment muttering that the whole world was against her. Aveline hung back for just a moment and smiled.

~*~

All of Hawke’s companions were sitting around a table in the Hanged Man drinking, laughing and playing cards. They had each reported their successes which was the cause for much of the laughter. This companionable air was kept up until Hawke burst through the door.

“You, all of you!” she yelled. They turned to look at her innocently.

“Yes, Hawke?” asked Varric.

“What have I done to you?” Hawke demanded of them.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Varric replied.

“You don’t…! Oh, I give up,” Hawke cried, throwing her hands in the air and storming back out of the building.

They kept watching the door she’d left through long after she had gone. For the last three years Hawke had been their friend. She had been there when they needed her and helped them solve their problems even when that meant impossible odds and near certain death ( _especially_ when it meant impossible odds and near certain death). For all their faults, she stuck by them and defended them. And they felt themselves drawn to her in return.

That was why this dating and love idea of hers had to be stopped. If she were to fall in love she would drift away from them. This companionship that they had right now, and even their games without her would end. If she was gone they would lose everything. She was the glue that kept everything together. And they weren’t about to let her go.

Now, if she were to fall in love with one of them… well, that is a different story altogether.


End file.
